Growing Old With Kitty 2
by lilyjack00
Summary: Picks up right where Growing Old With Kitty left off. Young cowboys, dastardly villains, eccentric characters, adventure & romance, Matt and Kitty-style. AU. This story is complete in and of itself, but the entire "Growing Old" story arc will conclude and wrap up loose ends in Growing Old With Kitty 3 to be posted at a later date. Unfortunately, Real Life slows me down sometimes.
1. Chapter 1

_Unending thanks and appreciation to my betas, Glow and DK, for guidance and cheerleading. And to Ladybrit for her invaluable medical advice. I could not have written all those exciting, bloody scenes without her!_

_People like us,  
We don't need that much  
Just someone that starts,  
Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts..._

James Blunt

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 1

"Wedding News"

"You young ruffians! Do you think I'm a' payin' you boys to run around wrasslin' and churnin' up the dust?"

"Mr. Blessing?" Kitty tentatively called as she approached the porch, trying to draw his attention away from his rambunctious ranch hands who were whooping and hollering, spurs jangling, making boyish mischief in the empty corral across from the house.

He waved his arms at them when they finally looked up slack-jawed, mid-wrassle, caught red-handed. "Get back t' work before I fire ever last one of ya'!"

"Yessir..."

"Yes, Boss..."

"On our way, Mr. Blessing!"

"S-s-sorry, sir..."

Frank McWharter, Lionel Byrd, Cletus Hoke and Henry Small answered hurriedly, dusting themselves off with a surreptitious, playful kick at an undefended backside or two. Guffaws and chuckles filled the air as the four obediently loped off for the barn, retrieving lost hats, straightening bandanas, waving to Kitty over their shoulders.

Leland Blessing shook his grizzled head, but Kitty noticed the corners of his mouth were mutinously twitching. He groused, "Where's my new foreman? Shouldn't Matthew be the one crackin' the whip around here? I ain't seen him all afternoon as a matter of fact..."

She touched him lightly on his work-worn, blue-plaid cotton sleeve, memories of the scene by the creek when Matt Dillon poured out his heart to her and asked Kitty Russell to be his wife flooding over her. "Mr. Blessing, I've got somethin' to tell you."

"Oh, you do, do ya'?" From the porch, Blessing peered at her over his spectacles, marking his place in the thick book he'd been reading when he'd heard the boys making a ruckus out in the yard. "Well, come on in and tell me all about it, child." He held open the ranch house door and ushered her into the cool, quiet front room filled with shelves and shelves of books, two comfortable chairs facing the empty fireplace. He gestured for her to sit in the smaller, more feminine chair Kitty had always assumed to be his late wife's. Dropping heavily with a deep groan into his studded leather chair, he placed the well-worn leather-bound volume on a small side table next to the coal oil-burning lamp. Bracing his hands on his thighs, he looked at her expectantly with a mysterious little twinkle in his gray eyes. "Well, what ya' got to tell me?" he urged. The corners of his mouth were twitching again, and his face held a knowing look.

Suddenly feeling a bit shy at sharing her news, she busied herself smoothing her skirt in her lap. "Mr. Blessing, something tells me you already know what I'm about to tell you."

"Now, I just may have an inkling since Matthew came to me the other day, worried about whether he'd be able to support his best girl if he happened to marry her." A smile danced around the rancher's crinkled eyes. "I just don't know for certain how you may have answered my young foreman though." He leaned back and crossed his arms, waiting in happy bemusement for her reply.

She scooted forward in her chair, clasping her hands in her lap. "Oh, Mr. Blessing, I said 'yes!' You know I did!"

"Well, I figgered you would. But he was shore worried 'bout you tellin' him 'no.'"

"Why, I could never say no to Matt Dillon. I realize I've only been here a short time, Mr. Blessing, but..." Her voice trailed off when her eyes focused on the books stacked on shelves behind Blessing's chair, while her mind was somewhere back in Dodge City. "...but I've loved him for a very long time."

"Is that a fact? You're an old soul, I do believe, Kitty Russell. I think we probably have that in common." He gave her a conspiratorial smile. "You may not have known that young man for very long, but I think you know what's best. And once you find a love like that..."

Suddenly Leland Blessing's voice broke and he was forced to look down at his careworn, calloused hands, and Kitty knew he was thinking of his own Juliet, lost so many years ago but the wound still remained fresh in his heart. Leaning across, she clutched his fingers and he patted her hand, then finished in a strained voice, shaking his head, "Once you find a love like that, you gotta hang on and never let go, young lady. Never let go."

"Yes, Mr. Blessing." Patiently, she waited for him to regain his composure, and her heart ached for this gentle man with the gruff exterior who had missed out on having a family because of a terrible tragedy long ago. She murmured in a low voice, full of emotion, "I realize this chance I'm getting is once in a lifetime, and I've got to grab hold of it with both hands."

Leland Blessing cleared his throat noisily and added in a vibrant voice, trying to cheer the mood, "I do know that Matthew thinks you hang the moon, young lady. Why, I don't think that boy's gone on a bender in months. He ain't had no reason to since he's had you around. You've been good for him. I think he's wanting that family he lost when he was young. I believe you can give it to him."

Kitty blushed a little at the implication and smiled, placing her hands back in her lap. "Why, Mr. Blessing..." she said in a slightly scandalized tone.

"Aw, you two're young and healthy. You have your whole lives ahead of you! There's nothin' you could do that would make me happier than to settle down here on this ranch and have a passel o' young'uns."

Kitty couldn't help but beam at him. She _was_ young. And she was healthy. And here was her chance to have a family with Matt Dillon, just like she'd always longed for. The life and the family that Marshal Dillon's badge had always gotten in the way of. "I'll do my best, sir." And then she laughed aloud.

"Speaking of a family, you two are welcome to stay in that little cabin for as long as you want, you hear me? There no use in..."

Kitty ceased any further discussion by throwing her arms around Leland Blessing's sunburnt neck and squeezing him for all she was worth. The old rancher was beginning to feel like the father she'd never really had.

"Whoa there, young lady!" he protested loudly, but he wrapped his beefy arms around her and patted her back gingerly at first. Then he surrendered, hugging her right back just as tightly, and it felt good and right. Kitty Russell sure did feel like the daughter he'd never known.

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Kitty emerged from the cool interior of the ranch house into the blazing heat of the afternoon, squinting into the sun. She heard her name being called from across the way. Shading her eyes, she saw Matt Dillon leaning lazily in the door of the barn, booted foot propped behind him, hat tipped forward and a stalk of hay hanging out of his mouth. She waved happily at him and then he beckoned to her silently with an arm, slowly straightening and putting his hands in his pockets as he watched her duck between the roughhewn boards of the gate to cut through the dusty corral. She could barely contain her grin as she approached him. "I told him, Matt."

Again, he beckoned wordlessly, this time with a sideways bob of his head on his sun-browned neck, and he walked backwards into the barn, pulling her gently by her fingertips. He backed into an empty horse stall filled with fresh hay piled high, carefully leaning the pitchfork he'd been using against the side of the stall. He pushed his hat back on his forehead with an index finger and then placed his hands on her shoulders. "So what'd he say, pretty little miss?"

The way he was looking at her made her mouth go dry. Those clear blue eyes of his were twinkling, raking over her face and figure languidly. She swallowed hard. "He was very happy for us, Matt."

He reached down and laced his warm fingers though hers. "Yeah? And what else did he say?" He pulled her a little closer to him until they were standing nearly toe to toe and she had to lean her head back to look into his searching eyes.

She swallowed again, hard. "He said..." She tucked a few stray red curls nervously behind her ear. "He said he'd like nothing better than for us to settle down on this ranch..."

"Uh-huh?" He touched one of those stray curls, rubbing the silky strands between his fingertips.

"...and have a passel of young'uns."

"Young'uns? He said that to you?" He chuckled softly and stroked the back of his fingers over one tender, rapidly flushing cheek.

"Yep. And he said we can live in the little cabin, too, Matt."

"He did, did he? You surely are a persuasive girl." He slowly slid a hand around to the small of her back, insistently rubbing that spot until her belly burned low and slow. He murmured, "So you and me are going to make babies in the old cabin, are we?"

He grinned mischievously when her face flushed even more. "Oh, Matt. "

"I like that idea, honey." He leaned down and kissed her temple, his late afternoon whiskers brushing roughly against her cheek. Then he whispered ardently in her ear, "I can't wait to be married to you, Kitty Russell." His words and underlying meaning deliciously raised gooseflesh on her arms and brought a secret smile to her lips.

She slid her hands up across his chest, over his broad shoulders and then finally around his neck, tilting her head back with her lips parted. Her sultry, heavy-lidded eyes beckoned to him. "I can't wait, either, Matt. I can't wait too awful much longer."

He dipped his head low and suckled her bottom lip gently, languorously, long and sweet while her eyes fluttered closed in sheer delight. Where had he learned to kiss like that? It made her whole body thrum.

He backed her up against the wall of the stall, threading his fingers through her hair as his voice rumbled low in his throat, "Let's get married as soon as we can. That okay with you?" She could feel his words pulsing in her chest, she was pressed so closely to him.

She sighed, "Oh, you bet it is, Cowboy..." She gave herself over to his kiss again, making soft sounds of pleasure that made his toes curl inside his dusty boots. Their arms wrapped urgently round one another, their kiss deepening as they sank slowly to the sweet, earthy-smelling hay at their feet. Their lips slid hotly together, their breathless murmurs mingling.

Kitty felt Matt's big hand sliding warmly down her side, over her hip to her thigh.

He whispered against her lips, "So soft... So sweet, Kitty..."

In response, she arched her back, pressing her aching body closer to his. "Matt..." she urged.

And two voices suddenly sounded from the corral. Cletus and Lionel, heading straight for the barn. "I didn't say you were stupid, Cletus. I just said you were actin' that way."

"Well, what'd you wanna go and hurt my feelins fer like that anyways, Lionel? I thought you was my friend."

The voices entered the barn as Matt and Kitty scrambled, brushing hay from their clothing. "Stay here," he hissed. "And stay low."

Matt grabbed the pitchfork, briskly striding out of the stall. "Where you boys been? I been lookin' all over for ya!"

Lionel's jaw dropped. "You have? Why we've just been over to the..."

Matt interrupted with an authoritative voice, "Now I want you two to come with me. I've got some calves over at the..."

Cletus protested, "But Mr. Blessing said he wanted us to..."

"I know, I know, we'll do that next, but first, let's go over to the back pasture. I want you to help me with something." Matt set the pitchfork down, dusting his hands together, trying his darndest to look like a busy ranch foreman. "Then we'll come back here and do what Mr. Blessing told ya'. Alright boys?"

Matt gave them no time to argue. Widely smiling, he stepped between them, wrapping his long arms around their shoulders, and hustled them out the door with a lingering backward glance to the silent horse stall, where a little bit of red hair and two luminous blue eyes peeked out. He said loudly with a wink over his shoulder, "Wonder what Kitty will cook for us for supper, boys?"

Kitty bit her fingernail and smiled, listening to Cletus and Lionel waxing rhapsodic over the joys of fluffy biscuits with crunchy bottoms and speckledy gravy, waiting patiently to make her getaway. Nope, she couldn't wait to be married to Matt Dillon.

tbc

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	2. Chapter 2

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 2

"Gifts from the Heart"

"Holy mackerel, that's the one, Kitty! That dress looks perfect on you! Matt Dillon will sure be proud to have you on his arm as his bride in that!" Celia ignored the pinched look the shopkeeper gave her at her unladylike swear words. She just poked her wire-rimmed spectacles back up on her nose, her cheek dimpling in pleasure as she whirled her index finger in a circle. "Turn around so I can get a good look at ya'. Not that my opinion matters or anything. You know I haven't got a lick of sense when it comes to fashionable clothing. But golly, you sure are pretty in that!"

Reluctantly, Kitty obliged her young friend by turning around in front of the dressing room mirror of Miss Leggett's Ladies' Clothing Shoppe in the bustling little town of Beaver Township. Kitty insisted in a rather hushed tone, "Celia, I can't buy this dress." She looked down longingly at the lovely yellow silk gown. It had wide hoop skirts and an elongated V-shaped waist with wide-set shoulders showing off her creamy décolleté without being too daring. "It's way too extravagant. Why, you know I can't afford something like this! Mrs. Leggett," she said to the store owner standing admiring Kitty in the fancy party dress. "I'll take that sensible green-sprigged cotton dress I tried on earlier. It's very pretty and I'll be able to wear it for something other than..."

"Mrs. Leggett," Celia interrupted Kitty firmly yet sweetly, holding up a palm. "Kitty will take this yellow dress, plus the sensible green cotton and that nice blue one as well for everyday wear. Wrap up the petticoats, hoopskirts..." Celia began ticking the items off on her fingers one at a time. "...bloomers, corset covers and, of course, corset. Make sure it's that fancy one with the pink ribbons. You will have to alter the yellow silk a bit, of course, so we'll be leaving that one here. Please remember the wedding is very soon, so we'll need it back promptly."

Kitty stood dumbfounded with her lower jaw hanging open, hands planted on her yellow silken hips.

Celia turned her attention to the store owner, who'd known her since she was a mere tot, "Please, Mrs. Leggett, could you leave us for a moment so that I can have a word with my dear friend?"

Mrs. Leggett opened her thin lips to speak, but then thought better of it. She scooped up the abandoned frilly clothing from around the room and scurried away to begin wrapping up the purchases in brown paper packages. In all the years she'd known Miss Celia, or Mrs. Fiore, she corrected herself, she'd never seen her quite so insistent. That girl had gotten a little too big for her britches since marrying that Easterner, if you asked her.

Both girls waited until Mrs. Leggett had safely closed the door behind her swishing, staid brown skirts before beginning their whispered conversation.

"Are you out of your mind, Celia Fiore? You know I can't afford all these things! I'm just a cook for a ranch-"

"Now hold your horses, Kitty Russell, and let me explain, will ya'?" She took both Kitty's hands and the two sat side by side on a fancy carved bench upholstered in green striped material, turning to face each other.

Celia quietly explained, "Mr. Blessing is paying for all this." Celia nodded firmly at the stunned reaction she got from Kitty. "I'm not stringin' a whizzer, honest to Pete! Mr. Blessing took me aside a few days ago when I first met him, and he handed me a whole bunch of cash money and said I was to buy you the prettiest dress in the whole store for your wedding and extra dresses, too." She waited a beat and her gray-green eyes widened dramatically. "And ladies' unmentionables." She wrinkled her nose, covering her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh. "He did call it that. 'Ladies' unmentionables.' But I was too stunned to laugh then, of course. Not to mention it would've been terribly rude of me."

"I don't know what to say..." Kitty couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I guess it's kinda' like your wedding trousseau, Kitty." Celia enthusiastically squeezed both of Kitty's hands.

Kitty shook her head, her face still dazed. "Oh no, Celia, it's too extravagant. I...I just couldn't accept!"

Celia arched a dark brow at her friend. "Oh yes, you can, Kitty. It's his wedding gift to you."

"But it's too much. I couldn't let Mr. Blessing..."

Celia interrupted with a finger pointed at her friend. "Yes, you can, Kitty. Do you not realize how much that old gentleman cares about you?"

Kitty cocked her head thoughtfully, her eyes unfocused. "Well, sure, he likes me, but..."

Celia placed her hands on her hips in exasperation. "Oh, you're so blind. Mr. Blessing looks on you like a daughter. Didn't you tell me that he lost his family in a terrible fire?"

"Yes, I..."

"Well, Freddie didn't know that. I asked him. He hadn't ever heard that story and neither had any of the other boys. You're the one he told, Kitty. He loves you and he trusts you."

"But, Celia..." Kitty held her hands out, palms up. "...do you know how much money all those pretty things cost?"

Celia placed a hand on Kitty's cheek and looked straight into her eyes. "Listen to me. The money is not important to him. Who on earth does he have to spend it on?" She reiterated, "Who?"

Kitty was silent as she let that thought sink in.

"He wants to spend a little bit of his money on you, and you should let him. I could tell by the look in his eyes that it would make him very happy. He really does look on you like family, Kitty."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," Kitty said as she looked down at her hands lying on the luxurious, billowing yellow material of her beautiful skirt.

Celia's voice was adamant. "You will hurt his feelings if you turn him down."

"I don't want to do that, honestly." Kitty's brow wrinkled.

Celia squared her shoulders and lifted her head high. "Then graciously accept his gift, young lady."

Kitty's tone turned incredulous. "Who are you callin' 'young lady'?" She pursed her lips at Celia, but her eyes sparkled merrily.

"Oh, don't you know? I'm an old married lady now! Hey! Kitty Russell, you and me's gotta have a long talk." She pointed an urgent finger at Kitty's face. "Soon. But not here. We need privacy." Celia held a hand next to her mouth to hoarsely whisper, "There's a _whole_ _lot_ about this marriage business I didn't find out until after the wedding." Celia nodded her head archly.

Kitty's eyes widened considerably and she pretended to be busy picking nonexistent lint from her skirt. She stumbled out, "Why...uh...what do you mean, Celia?"

Celia hissed in a low voice, "I don't know what you've been told, but our housekeeper Mrs. Rubottom's little talk with me about the birds and the bees didn't quite set things straight in my mind."

"Birds?" Kitty placed a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. "Why, Celia!"

"So I just wanna make sure you know what you're getting yourself into, Kitty, with this marriage business."

Kitty bit her lip and raised a brow. "So, does that mean you liked it? Or not?"

A sly smile spread across Celia's lips. "Oh, I liked it all right!" She leaned back and quirked a dark brow. "But it was just a little shocking at first, I'll tell you. Marriage is a lot trickier than anyone let on." She folded her arms thoughtfully. "You and me can have us a little pow-wow in private sometime, okay? I don't want you to be as unprepared for the shenanigans of men as I was!"

"Oh, Celia, I'm not sure that..."

"You mean you already know?" Celia looked a little disappointed and disbelieving. "Who told ya'?"

"I...uh... Well, Celia, let's have our little talk soon. You can teach me everything you know, okay?' She didn't want to let on to her wonderful new friend that she was actually an old soul in a young body, quite experienced in the shenanigans of men. And mighty interested in the shenanigans of one tall, tousle-haired young cowboy in particular.

"It's a deal!" Celia stuck out her hand and Kitty shook it firmly. Celia held a finger conspiratorially to her lips and went to open the door a crack. "Oh, Mrs. Leggett! We're ready for you to mark this dress for alterations whenever you are!" She gave a silent smirk and tugged on Kitty's hand to pull her out of her seat. Celia urged Kitty in front of the mirror and stood behind her, easily looking over Kitty's shoulder as Celia was a tall, lanky girl. Celia's eyes sparkled at Kitty's reflection as she wrapped her arms loosely around Kitty's waist. "Matt's gonna love this dress. I just know it!"

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Kitty sat in the buggy next to Henry Small after dropping off Celia at her home with Freddie over the Brushy Heap Bugle. The young Sweetwater ranch hand been their escort on their shopping excursion to Beaver Township for Kitty's new dress that she'd wear for her wedding to Matt Dillon. Henry hadn't ventured inside Mrs. Leggett's with them, and Kitty hadn't blamed him. The sight of all those "ladies' unmentionables" as Mr. Blessing had phrased it, would have proven shy Henry's utter undoing.

There'd barely been room for the three of them on the ride back to Brushy Heap what with all the pretty things they'd bought tied up in brown paper packages, courtesy of Mr. Blessing, truly her fairy godfather now, Kitty thought. She couldn't get over the kindness and generosity he'd shown to her in the relatively short time since she'd known him. Mr. Blessing had truly proved a blessing in her life.

She was wool gathering, counting those many blessings, when she felt the buggy pull up in the shade of a grove of trees growing alongside a small creek. Henry climbed out to lead the horses over to get a drink of water as it was a considerably hot day. Kitty pulled a cotton handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed at her damp face as Henry approached.

"W-want to get down and rest a spell?" he asked, holding up his hands.

"Don't mind if I do, Henry. It'd do me good to stretch my legs." She smiled as he held her waist and easily supported her while she hopped down. "Thank you kindly, young sir!" she declared brightly.

Henry grinned back, a sight she was seeing more and more these days as he became easier around her. "Y-you're welcome, Miss Kitty." He shuffled his feet nervously for a moment and then suddenly dug in his pocket. "I-I got s-somethin' for ya' while we was in town." He pulled out a very small brown paper tied with string and shyly handed it to her.

The boy's bashfulness and sincerity tugged at her heart. "For me, Henry? You shouldn't have!"

"Open it," he said eagerly.

"Alright," she smiled as she untied the string and folded back the paper. Inside was a length of beautiful blue satin ribbon. "Oh, Henry..." she said quietly, overcome at his gesture. "It's so beautiful."

"It's the s-s-same color as your eyes, Miss K-kitty. It's soft and it sh-shines, like your eyes when you l-l-look at people." He stuffed his hands timidly in his pockets and blushed.

"Thank you, Henry. That's just about the prettiest thing anyone has ever given me." She put her arms around the boy's shoulders and hugged him tight and could almost feel his cheeks getting redder by the second.

A voice sounded from the trees, deep and menacing, making the bile rise in Kitty's throat. Buford Hicks taunted, "Ain't this somethin', Simon? That little red-headed whore is givin' it away to everbody over to the Sweetwater Ranch. She won't give us the time a' day. You think that's right?"

Junk Kelley snarled, "I think it's our turn, Buford, what you say?"

Simon Dooley stepped forward, "I got to agree with ya' on that, boys. It's pay-up time, little gal."

Henry pushed Kitty in back of him. He demanded of the three men, "Y-y-you st-stay back, you hear?"

Buford laughed, and Kitty's stomach turned at the sound of him popping his beefy knuckles. "I owe you, too, boy. Don't think I don't remember."

Kitty spat out, "Just leave us alone, Hicks. I'll scratch your eyes out if you come near me."

Buford laughed, a cunning, mirthless sound. "Looks to me like the odds is in our favor. Three men against a girl and a kid. So why don't you just shut up and hike yer skirts, bitch?"

Kitty sucked in a terrified breath and slipped a shaking hand into Henry's as the three Lazy J ranch hands took another step towards them.

tbc

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	3. Chapter 3

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 3

"Old Grudges"

"I meant what I said, whore," Buford growled, his voice low and ugly, the words emanating from deep within his barrel-shaped chest, hateful black eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at Kitty. "You owe me. I paid top dollar for your sweet little ass at the Rusty Nail and you never delivered the goods, Red." Sweat circled the man's shirt at his collar and armpits, and he dragged an arm across his forehead to wipe it away before it dripped into his eyes.

Anxious droplets also trickled down Kitty's back in the afternoon sun, but she shivered in spite of the heat. She'd had a couple of previous near disastrous run-ins with this huge, unkempt man and his two cronies, but this time she and her companion were completely outnumbered. Hicks was right. She and young Henry Small were hardly a match for the three brutes who stood threateningly before them.

Gently but firmly, Henry pushed Kitty further behind him protectively, taking a cautious step forward himself. He looked the big man piercingly in the eye and stated in a determined voice, "Y-y-you l-l-l-leave her alone, H-h-hicks."

Buford threw back his head on his thick neck and laughed, mocking, "L-l-l-leave her alone?" Hicks looked around at Simon Dooley and Junk Kelly who were grinning with their yellowed, tobacco-stained teeth. Hicks spat over his shoulder, shook his head and asked in a cocksure tone, "Who's gonna make me?"

Henry squared his shoulders. "M-m-me."

"Y-y-you?!" Buford crowed, and both Kelly and Dooley cackled in response, doubling over and slapping their knees at the hilarity of the idea of Henry preventing them from doing anything.

Kitty touched his shoulder anxiously, but Henry pushed it off, calling angrily above their guffaws, "Y-y-you have no right!"

The three men who faced them became quiet and still, and Buford reiterated, "I gotta right, boy. I told you I paid for her, fair and square."

"H-how much?" Henry burst out.

"How much?" Buford repeated in confusion.

Frantically Henry began digging deep in his pockets, pulling out all his hard-earned money, hurling it to the ground at Buford Hicks' feet. "There! N-n-now you've got your m-money back! L-l-l-leave her alone!"

Dooley and Kelly looked uncertainly to their leader as Buford's heavy brow furrowed. He stared down at the money, a muscle in his cheek twitching. He hissed, "That's not the point, boy. Me and that there whore made a deal. Now I'm gonna collect."

The hair on the back of Kitty's neck stood on end as she watched the three men take a step toward them. She searched desperately, her eyes darting around at the miles and miles of deserted prairie with not a soul in sight. Matt Dillon was not here to rescue her this time. And they were outnumbered, pure and simple. She watched as Buford Hicks strode forward, reaching out a brawny arm to swat Henry aside. "Get the hell outta my way, boy."

"N-no!" Henry gritted his teeth and desperately swung the first blow at Buford's face. Buford, surprised at Henry's frontal assault, staggered backwards a couple of steps, holding a hand to his jaw, muttering, "Why, you little bastard! I'll teach you!"

Buford backhanded Henry, sending the boy thudding to the ground, but Henry quickly struggled to his feet again. Panting, he wiped blood from his mouth, stuttering, "Y-y-you'll hafta kill me afore I let you lay a hand on her!"

Buford snarled, "It'll be my pleasure, maggot!" Buford grabbed Henry by the throat, and Kitty darted forward, crying, "Henry!"

She jumped on the huge man's back, pounding and clawing at his skin, snarling, "Let...him...go!"

He loosened his hold on Henry long enough to fling Kitty to the ground. "Get ahold of her, boys! I'm gonna show this gal what happens to folks who tangle with me."

Junk Kelly and Simon Dooley dragged Kitty roughly to her feet, painfully gripping her arms on either side. Kitty gasped as she watched Henry's face turning purple. She struggled uselessly and her mind raced as she watched Buford choking the life from her young friend. Suddenly he went limp, and Buford laughed hollowly, dropping his body to the ground with a sickening thud.

Kitty released a sob, but instantly tensed up again when Junk Kelly touched her and chuckled sickeningly, trailing a dirty knuckle across her cheek. Twisting in an attempt to free herself, they just tightened their grip painfully on her arms.

Simon Dooley fingered the sash at her waist, marveling, "Lookee here, Buford. She's all tied up like a purdy package, just fer us. Kin I unwrap 'er?"

Grunting in approval, Buford eyed her hotly as he stepped over Henry's body.

Kitty shivered when Dooley untied her sash and tugged the ribbon from her waist, letting it drop to the ground. She closed her eyes as her blood ran cold, icicles pricking her fingers and her chest and her mind. Primal fear, rushing over her in a torrent, a flood of horrific memories. Men from her past, from a previous life: Mannon, Bonner...the Dog Soldiers.

She heard Buford Hicks' laugh as he moved closer. She could smell him and his filthy friends and it made her stomach turn. She felt clumsy fingers fumble at the buttons at her throat as Dooley crowed, "Let's unwrap 'er some more, what ya' say, Junk?"

Then Kitty heard a scream and she tasted blood in her mouth. Dooley let go of her arm and she opened her eyes in surprise. She saw he was howling and clutching his hand, dripping with blood. "Crazy bitch!" he spat and she realized she had bitten him, and badly, too.

Seizing the moment, she viciously jabbed her elbow into Kelly's eye socket and then ground her booted heel into his foot. Knocked senseless by the blow to his head, he staggered away yelping in agony.

Buford grabbed her roughly from behind, wrapping his muscled arm around her neck. "_Puta_! I'll show you what a real man is!" He fumbled at her skirts while she grimaced and struggled against him, her heart sinking and her mind whirling. She panicked, adrenaline coursing through her veins at the thought of being assaulted again. Kitty reached back, raking her nails across his face but he only roared in anger, tightening his grip, choking her.

Suddenly, Buford released her from his grasp, and she sank to her knees desperately sucking air into her starved lungs. Quickly turning to see what was going on, her eyes widened and she gasped to see Henry facing down Buford with a glinting, bloodied blade in his hand.

Hicks gazed down in astonishment at a knife wound in his shoulder. "Where'd you have that hid, boy?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "You think that's gonna stop me?"

Dooley and Kelly were nursing their wounds, watching the two combatants from the side, carefully keeping their distance from the redhead who surprisingly knew how to fight dirty.

The two circled each other carefully, sizing the other up. Henry was small, but he had a weapon on his side. Buford decided to use his brute strength and size to advantage, charging the boy and seizing the wrist with the knife when Henry attempted to swing. They struggled, but Henry was easily overpowered. Kitty exclaimed when Buford slammed Henry's hand holding the knife deep into the boy's thigh. Henry cried out, gritting his teeth, but would not loosen his grip on the knife. He managed to pull it free from his leg with a groan and the two continued to struggle for control. Buford punched the boy's injured leg, and the youngster fell to his knees in pain. Hicks leaped atop him and they rolled and grappled on the ground, dust clouds flying, until Hicks lay on top of the boy. Then all was still.

"Buford!" Simon and Junk called out. They ran to their leader and shook him but he only exhaled in response, a strangled gurgling sound rising from his throat. "Buford!" they called again and rolled his huge frame off of Henry who lay quiet and pale.

But Kitty could see the knife sticking out of her attacker's chest. Buford Hicks was dead.

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	4. Chapter 4

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 4

"Life & Death"

"Henry!" Kitty fell to her knees on the grass alongside her pale young friend. He lay dreadfully still beside the lifeless body of their attacker, Buford Hicks. She clutched Henry's shoulders, touched his face, tried to get him to open his eyes. "Henry?" she repeated, and forcefully choked back a sob when she realized with a start that she was being scrutinized by Buford's cronies, Simon Dooley and Junk Kelly, an expression of complete and utter disbelief on both of their faces. David had unexpectedly slain Goliath.

Junk Kelly gingerly touched his rapidly swelling eye, courtesy of Kitty's earlier well-aimed elbow jab. Glaring at her with a pinched expression, he muttered, "Whatta we do now, Simon?" The freckle-faced red-head looked unsettled and shifted nervously from foot to foot.

Raking his lank blond hair off of his forehead with a bloodied hand, Dooley suggested, "You think we should take the girl?"

Like a flash, Kitty reached for the knife jutting from Buford Hick's enormous chest, jerking it free, blood dripping down the handle. She faced the two men down, snarling at them, "Don't either of you come near me, you understand? I'll cut you so you'll never be able to hurt a woman again. You get my meaning? Stay away from me!"

Kelly and Dooley, eyes as big as saucers, backed away from the blazing mad redhead with a crimson-stained knife gripped firmly in her fist. They hurriedly reassured her, "Don't get any ideas, little gal! We're a'leavin'!" They'd both experienced first-hand Kitty's wrath and had no doubt that she would follow through on her threats.

"Wait!" Kitty called out anxiously. "First, put my friend in the buggy. I can't lift him by myself. If you help me, I'll tell folks it wasn't you who hurt Henry."

Placing a hand obstinately on a raw-boned hip, Dooley complained stringently, "Now wait just a damn min-"

Kelly cuffed his friend on the arm, hissing, "Do what she says, fool. We gotta steer clear o' trouble! Maybe she'll put in a good word for us."

Kitty looked like it pained her as she looked at them and bit out the word, "Please." Her eyes blazed with hate for the men who had attacked them but also with fear for Henry.

The two Lazy J ranch hands looked at each other for only a moment before they grabbed Henry's arms and lifted him easily between them. Kitty bit her lip when the boy moaned, his pants leg dark and wet with the blood seeping from his wound. It upset her to hear him, but at the same time the sound was reassuring—he was still alive. Kitty jumped into the buggy and sat next to Henry's form lying limp against the back of the seat.

Junk took a step forward, eyeing her darkly. "You wanna..."

Kitty wielded the knife before her again, gritting her teeth. "I want you to go away and leave us alone, you hear me? Now!"

Both men stepped back, raising their hands in submission and watching as she grabbed the reins, slapping them on the horse's back. They moved as quickly as was safely possible on the bumpy trail and all the while Kitty cast a wary eye over her shoulder, watching until the men were out of sight.

Emitting a small groan, Henry attempted to lift his sun-bleached blond head. Kitty pulled the horses up short, looking nervously over her shoulder once more. No ruffians in sight. She breathed a little easier. "Henry?" she explained quickly. "I'm taking you back to the ranch."

Henry gave a hoarse whisper, "I feel d-dizzy-headed, Miss Kitty."

Glancing down at his leg, seeing how quickly the bloodstain was blossoming, she answered urgently, "You're losing too much blood. We've gotta get that leg bandaged up right now. " Kitty grabbed the knife that had killed Buford Hicks and saved them both, cutting open Henry's pants leg so she could get a clear look at the extent of the damage. Sucking in a breath at the apparent depth of the wound, she realized the knife blade must have hit a large vessel. The boy needed stitching badly, but this wasn't the time or place. She'd have to make do with a bandage for now. Hurriedly, Kitty hitched up her skirt and began tearing the ruffled hem from her white petticoat.

Even in his weakened state, young Henry Small was ever the gentlemen. His voice wavering, he protested, "M-m-miss Kitty, n-no. You hadn't oughta..."

"I should and I will." She grimaced as she struggled to rip the seams. "I'm certainly not going to let you bleed to death before I get you back home, Henry Small."

His soft blue eyes followed her every movement as he lay listlessly against the cracked leather seat of the old buggy.

"I'm going to try not to hurt you, but it probably will anyway. I've got to make this tight, alright? Hold on..."

Henry bit his lip bravely as Kitty wound her bandage as snugly around his injured leg as she could, but she quickly became alarmed when the blood seeped through the cotton fabric as fast as she could wrap it. Glancing up at the shy, thoughtful young man whom she'd come to care for very deeply in the past months, she tried to hide the uncertainty in her eyes. "Henry, I think I need to make a tourniquet. This is bleeding way too much. I'll be right back."

Kitty leapt from the buggy, quickly locating a sturdy stick from beneath a cottonwood sapling. Kitty's pulse pounded in her ears as she hurried back to the buggy, thinking that with every beat of Henry's heart, he lost more vital blood. Fingers shaking, she tore more fabric from her petticoat, winding it around Henry's thigh, higher than the actual knife wound.

"Henry, I've got to twist this stick in the bandages and make it tight, so tight it stops the bleeding. I'm afraid this will hurt pretty badly. Doc calls it a tourniquet."

"It's okay," he breathed. Kitty saw him try to focus his eyes on her expression. "Who's Doc?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across her face. "An old friend." An old friend she would do anything to have beside her right now, she thought wistfully, thinking that he would know exactly what to do to help Henry.

Kitty's brow furrowed in sympathy as Henry groaned while she twisted the tourniquet tightly, and she worried—was it too tight? Was it not tight enough? "I'm so sorry, Henry. Henry?"

The boy's eyes were closed and his face was sweat-sheened and pale beneath his tanned skin. His lids cracked open as Kitty leaned close and spoke urgently.

"You stay with me, you hear? We'll be home before you know it."

"I'll try, Miss Kitty." His voice was soft and distant. "But I'm afraid I might die... " She felt his palm slide into hers, clinging to her with a weak grip as he asked, "Does that mean I'm a coward?"

"You saved my life today!" She touched a hand to his face. "You are the bravest boy I've ever met."

His eyes started to drift closed again as he murmured, "W-what if I..."

Kitty had to move closer to hear his next words. "What is it, Henry?"

"What if I d-d-die afore I..." He swallowed hard and then continued. "...I ever get to k-kiss a girl?"

Hot tears rolled down Kitty's cheeks, and she quickly leaned in to whisper back, "You're not going to die, Henry Small. I'll see to that." And with that, she brushed her lips over the boy's, feeling the soft peachy stubble over his sweet, innocent mouth and then felt his warm, quick intake of breath. She drew back and Henry's eyes were filled with wonder just for an instant. Then they drifted shut. Kitty grabbed the reins and shouted to the horse, "Hyah!" her heart pounding like thunder in her chest.

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	5. Chapter 5

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 5

"Where's Doc When You Need Him?"

Bunching her skirts in her arms, Kitty leaped from the buggy, frantically clanging the dinner bell in front of the ranch house. Mr. Blessing emerged, newspaper in hand, removing his spectacles at the sight of Kitty, clothing torn and disheveled, hair straggling from its formerly neat updo, covered in blood. The grizzled rancher dropped his newspaper in horror and ran down the front porch steps toward her, exclaiming, "Kitty! Child, what happened?" Clutching her shoulders, his eyes worriedly searched her body for injury.

"No! I'm fine," she cried, gesturing toward the buggy where Henry Small lay unconscious, his leg bound in a tourniquet crudely fashioned from torn petticoat ruffles and a broken tree limb. "It's Henry who's badly hurt! Please help me get him inside!" She grabbed the man's hand and pulled him to the buggy's side just as Matt and the other Sweetwater hands rode up briskly on their horses, summoned by the sound of the bell at an unusual time of the day. Their expressions turned to ones of shock at the macabre sight of their friend Henry and Kitty both drenched in blood.

Matt jumped down from his horse, running to Kitty, clutching her face in his trail-dusty hands, expression frantic at the sight of her covered in so much blood. "What happened? Where are you hurt?"

"Honest, I'm fine, Matt. It's Henry's blood, not mine." She turned to the men and told them, "He's got to be stitched up. And quickly. He's lost too much blood already."

Mr. Blessing instructed, "Boys, quick, carry 'im into the front bedroom."

Cletus and Lionel gently lifted their friend, reassuring him when he groaned softly. "Yer gonna' be okay, _compadre_. We'll git you took care of right quick."

Lionel looked hopefully over his shoulder at Kitty, remembering how she had once doctored a badly beaten Matt Dillon after a fight with Buford Hicks. "Miss Kitty knows what to do, don't ya', Miss Kitty?"

Kitty nodded her head in the affirmative, but inside she was quaking. She hoped she knew what to do. She ticked items off on her fingers, thinking of what they'd need to sew up Henry's deep wound. "Frank, we need lots of hot water and strong soap, towels and whiskey. I'll need hot water to wash up with first." She looked in disgust at the mixture of blood and dirt on her hands and arms, thinking it was not only Henry's, but that bastard Buford Hicks' as well.

Then she turned to her boss. "Mr. Blessing, we need a pretty large needle." Her eyes held his sympathetically. "Do you have any of Juliet's old sewing things?" knowing full-well that he did. She doubted he'd gotten rid of any of his beloved wife's possessions. The old man nodded silently, scurrying inside to search.

Her brow creased in thought, recalling the operations she'd observed and assisted Doc with. "Matt, once Doc told me about having to use horse hair to sew up his patients during the war when he was short on medical supplies. We'll have to make do with that, too. Can you get me some long ones from the tail? I also need something..." She groped for the words to explain, flexing her fingers in an attempt to demonstrate, "...to hold the skin with while we're sewing him up. Doc had something called forceps to grip with. Do you think you can find me something that works like that?"

Matt nodded wordlessly, gripping Kitty's shoulders for only a moment and looking into her eyes as if to reassure himself that she was indeed unharmed before hustling off to the barn. Kitty hurried inside to wash up, her stomach fluttering in anxiety as she contemplated the difficult task that lay before her. "Oh, Doc, where are you when I need you?" she fretted.

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Sweat dripped from Kitty's temples into her stinging eyes as she worked feverishly, distractedly swiping at her forehead with an arm. She was thankful for the bright light streaming through the bedroom window, illuminating her needle's path as she struggled awkwardly over Henry's torn flesh.

Kitty had never been a praying woman, but she sent up a silent, heartfelt plea to the heavens that she wasn't doing more harm to the boy right now than good. Doc had always made this sort of thing look so easy! His finesse with his hands was something she had never appreciated more fully than right at this moment as she was forced to try and save her sweet young friend Henry's life. Her gut clenched to think she might be his only hope for survival. She couldn't let him down.

It had been dicey, terrifying in fact, after they'd cut away Henry's pants, cleaned the wound with hot water and soap and then doused it with some strong whiskey for good measure, grimacing in sympathy as Henry hissed in agony. It was then that she could see the full extent of the damage, the severed artery that had caused so much blood loss. Her skin had prickled in fear at the thought that she would be forced to tie off the vessel as well. She had cleared her throat and tried to put on a brave face, positioning his leg so that she could better work.

Pensively, sandy-haired Lionel asked, "You can fix 'im up, cain't ya', Miss Kitty?"

Belying her sickening bellyful of doubt, she had answered with a strong voice that shook nearly imperceptibly, "I'll do my best, Lionel. I promise."

Lionel nodded and managed to get some whiskey down Henry's throat before Kitty began her grueling task.

"It's gonna take more than that, I'm afraid, Lionel," she'd said worriedly. "This is not going to be pleasant, and I'll need you all to hold him down." She took a deep breath and admitted, "I've never done this before."

After taking several more choking swallows of amber liquid from the bottle, eyes glassy, Henry had murmured, "Did Doc show you how...?"

Kitty had given Henry a tight smile but nodded in what she'd hoped was a reassuring way, "He sure did. Taught me all the doctorin' I know." She had glanced up just as Mr. Blessing had returned with their improvised surgical instruments and horsehair strands that'd been boiled clean on the stove. She'd swallowed hard, saying, "I think we're ready. Lionel, please...roll up one of those rags for him to bite down on. Henry..." She had grabbed Henry's hand and squeezed gently. "...hold on tight."

Henry had replied, his voice thready, "Miss Kitty, I know you'll do a fine job. Don't you worry 'bout me none." A small, brave smile flitted across his ashen face for just a second as he tried to squeeze her hand back. The knot in her stomach had grown at the thought that not only were they relying on her to save Henry, but she was operating under far from ideal conditions. Horsehair and sewing needles?

Now Kitty and Matt were hunched over Henry's leg, working intently. Matt clamped the artery tightly closed with an instrument he'd located in the barn, used for doctoring horses, he'd explained, that they had boiled good and clean in the kitchen. Poor Henry was drenched in sweat as he tried to stifle his moans of pain.

Frank, his own face bloodless in sympathy, pressed down on Henry's shoulders to hold him still, muttering, "You just holler loud as you want, boy. Nobody's here to hear you but us." The others murmured in agreement, but all the same, they were glad it was not them getting sewn up right now.

Grimacing as the metallic scent of blood assaulted his nostrils, Matt worried that his own big, clumsy hands, clamping the damaged artery tight, were getting in Kitty's way as she tried to tie the vessel off with a strand of horsehair. She pulled the strand tightly.

"Mr. Blessing, please hold this thread firmly while I tie another knot. We can't let it loose yet."

The rancher leaned over, doing as she asked, while she attempted to knot it the way she'd seen Doc do on several occasions, and hoped against hope that would staunch the flow.

At her word Mr. Blessing doused the wound again, and Kitty and Matt both held their breath as Matt released the clamp, waiting to see if telltale crimson drops would seep through once more. Seconds passed as they all stood breathlessly, Kitty's heart pounding in her chest. Would her best be good enough?

Mr. Blessing was the one who broke the silence. His quiet voice startled them from their hushed observation of the patient. "Kitty, I think you did it." He was looking over her shoulder. "I think you patched him up good, child."

Matt and Kitty looked at one another in cautious victory and then glanced over at Henry.

"He's passed out cold, Miss," Cletus offered softly.

Alarmed, her voice rushed out, "Is he...?"

Cletus interrupted, "Oh, he's still breathin' fine, Miss Kitty."

Her brow furrowed in sympathy, but she answered, "He's better off." She so wanted to stroke the boy's fevered cheek and murmur reassurances in his ear, but she still had work to do. With more confidence than she actually felt, she continued, "Matt, let's get this knife wound stitched up and bandaged so that Henry can get some rest. Will you clamp this right here while I sew it up?"

Matt looked at her with admiring eyes, his chest swelling with pride at the extraordinary things his girl was capable of. "I sure will, Kitty. You just show me what to do."

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They walked silently to the cook shack, side by side, each lost in their own thoughts. They'd left Mr. Blessing and the boys to change Henry's bloody clothing and replace the soiled sheets on the bed, while Matt and Kitty carried wash pans full of bloody instruments and rags to rinse with hot water from the stovetop.

But first, they had to clean themselves up. Their clothing was splashed with blood, and they were both smeared with the sticky mess up to their elbows. Kitty couldn't wait to rinse the gore from her skin. A shiver ran down her spine as she looked down at her hands and she hurried a little faster into the shack.

Matt fetched a spotless wash basin and a bucket filled with hot water and carried it out back while Kitty carried soap and fresh towels. He set it on the table, and Kitty wasted no time gripping the bar of soap and dipping her hands into the shallow pan.

Instantly, the water swirled crimson and she felt herself begin to shake at the sight. The soap tumbled from her hands; her knees suddenly turned to jelly. Matt, sensing her distress, quickly moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her while she leaned back against him for support. He placed his strong hands over hers in the basin, smoothing, caressing, slicking the soap over her own hands, washing away Henry Small's blood.

Taking a deep breath, she gave a shuddering sigh as he dumped the dirty basin into the grass and poured more warm, clear water over her hands. She tried unsuccessfully to still her trembling, choosing to lean over and splash her face instead, several times. She knew after all of today's events, she must be a filthy mess. Matt softly touched her shoulders, turning her to face him. He gently toweled her dripping face dry and then her hands, at last enveloping her in his long arms.

"I'm sorry, Matt." Her apology was muffled against his broad, comforting chest.

His voice raised a notch in surprise. "For what, honey?"

"For falling to pieces like this," was her reply as she toyed with his shirt button.

She sniffled a little and Matt realized she was fighting back tears. "You're not falling to pieces, Kitty." He squeezed her waist and rubbed her back comfortingly. "Why, you're the bravest girl I ever met."

She bit her thumbnail and looked up at him, eyes filling with unshed tears. "You think so?"

He smoothed her tumbled hair back from her sweat-dampened forehead. "I'm sure of it. I'm awful proud of you—don't you know that?"

Her eyes widened at this admission from Matt Dillon. She couldn't recall ever hearing such a declaration from his lips before.

He out-and-out grinned at the astonished look on her face, adding "I don't think I've ever met anybody as smart as you, even Mr. Blessing!"

"Oh, Matt!" She had to laugh and squeeze him tight around his middle. He was so young and wiry that she could reach all the way around him easy as pie.

His sparkling blue eyes danced merrily at her as the late afternoon rays slanted across the prairie and they held each other tightly for a few more stolen moments.

Kitty's tone turned low and earnest as she tilted her gaze up at him, "It means a lot to me, you know. That you're proud of me."

His expression turned soft and serious as well. "I know we haven't known each other as long as some people do before they get hitched, but I already know without a doubt that you're one hell of a woman, Kitty Russell, and I'm the luckiest man alive."

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	6. Chapter 6

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 6

"Panacea"

A warm red and white merle ball of fur sidled on the bed against Henry, his hand placed unconsciously on the dog's head as he slept. Resting her small, fuzzy chin on Henry's stomach, Daisy lay very still next to the boy, sensing his need for comfort. Kitty dozed in a nearby chair, fitfully, for she dreamed of cruel hands tearing at her clothing, bruising her skin, while Henry tried in vain to protect her. The hands turned to glinting knife blades, slicing at them both as they cried out, helpless to defend themselves. Awaking with a start, Kitty's eyes darted fearfully around the room.

Her gaze came to rest on Henry's pale face, his expression troubled. He drowsily asked, "Did you call me, Miss Kitty?" Daisy nuzzled the boy's hand, giving it an affectionate lick, and he scratched the pup's head in appreciation.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Kitty sat up, arching her aching back, relief washing over her that she'd only been reliving the events of the previous day in a nightmarishly torpid body. She cleared her throat, shaking the remnants of her dream state terror from her mind. "Henry, I'm sorry I woke you. How are you feeling?"

Voice hoarse with sleep and pain, he answered, "Pretty tolerable, Miss Kitty..." But his face softly shone with boyish admiration. "... since you doctored me so fine."

Smiling at him, she stood and touched a hand to his forehead, then his cheek, while he looked up at her trustingly with tired blue eyes. "You feel cool—no fever," she said hopefully. Then she pulled the bedcovers aside just enough to expose the damaged thigh beneath his nightshirt. He blushed even then.

"Hardly any bleeding through the bandage. Let's take a look." Her chest tightened in anticipation as she unwound the dressing, praying that the wound was clean and showed no signs of infection. If that were to happen, Henry could lose his leg. Or even worse—his life.

She breathed another sigh of relief. Some swelling, but that was to be expected. The tissue looked healthy and her stitches were holding. "It looks fine, Henry. Just fine," she beamed at him.

He shyly reached out a hand to her and she took it, sitting beside him on the bed. He ducked his head before he spoke. "I wanna thank you fer savin' my life, Miss Kitty. I thought I's gonna die fer sure."

She reached out, placing a warm palm on his ashen cheek, "Now, Henry, you know I couldn't let that happen." She leaned over, murmuring quietly, "You are a dear, dear friend, Henry Small, and you have helped me many times. I will always do anything I can to return the favor." She gave him a light kiss on the forehead and then looked up in surprise as Matt and Frank burst excitedly into the room.

Kitty rose and turned to face Matt, his left eye swollen nearly shut. "Matt, are you alright?" she exclaimed.

He clasped both her hands in his and answered gravely, "Yeah, honey, I think things should be just fine from here on out."

Frank wiped blood from his busted lip with a wadded handkerchief as he angrily snarled, "Those two bastards won't be causing you any more trouble. I'll kill 'em next time they try."

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The prior evening, after Matt and Kitty had scrubbed the blood from their hands, Kitty made sure Henry was resting comfortably. Then Matt insisted on escorting her back to her little cabin to change her torn, filthy clothing, and after her frightening encounter with Hicks and his gang, she didn't argue, not one little bit. Her black mare Lucy had been left stabled back in her small barn at home, so Matt had hoisted Kitty up in front on his own saddle. Realizing he just wanted to be close to her during the ride, to hold her securely, safe in his arms, she'd been more than happy to oblige him. They'd ridden in complete silence across the prairie grass, his free arm pulling her snugly against him while she lay her head back against his chest and gave herself over to his care.

He'd followed her inside the cabin, and Matt watched as she took a clean dress and petticoat from the wardrobe to place on the bed. Pausing to glance at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall, she'd given a wry chuckle. "I look a mess." Her hair was straggling from its pins, and she picked up a brush and began to try and smooth it, but her shaking hands had only made it worse.

"Let me." Matt had been standing behind her, and his gentleness as he removed the snarled hairpins had completely belied the size and power of his great hands. He brushed and brushed while she closed her eyes, feeling the horror of the day melt away with each consecutive stroke of the bristles, warming her scalp and making her skin tingle.

When she opened her eyes again, his gaze in the mirror was so resolute and unflinching that she gave an involuntary shiver. He insisted in a low voice, "Tell me what happened today. I want you to tell me everything, Kitty."

And so she had. They'd sat on the bed facing one another, her trembling hands gripped in his, and she'd told him the whole story, how Buford Hicks and his cronies had attempted to take what they felt they were owed, how Henry had defended her with his life and how they'd finally gotten away after Henry stabbed Hicks with a knife, killing him stone dead.

Matt reached out and tenderly touched the redness and bruising on her neck. He asked softly, "You're not leavin' anything out, are you, Kitty? They didn't do anything else?"

She shook her head vehemently. "No, Matt, honest. I'm just bruised and shaken up a little is all. Henry suffered the worst of it."

Kitty could see an angry vein pulsing in Matt's jaw as he sat thinking.

"Somethin's gotta be done about those two. We don't have any law around these parts, and we can't have Dooley and Kelly beatin' up on boys and women."

"What are you gonna do, Matt?" Her brow wrinkled in worry as she began weaving her red hair into a long braid.

He had touched her cheek lightly. "You leave that to me, honey. You've had enough worries. You change clothes now, and I'll take you back to the ranch house."

Then he'd stalked out the door to give her some privacy, even his bootsteps sounding determined, while Kitty fretted over what lay ahead.

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In the early morning light, Kitty slipped her hands from Matt's grasp to tilt his head down to better examine his black eye. "What did you two do?" although she knew full well what they'd gone and done.

"What somebody should've done a long time ago." Matt winced when she touched his swollen skin. "That smarts, Kitty."

She bit her lip, apologizing, "Sorry, Matt. Let me get Henry's wound cleaned and bandaged again, and then I can tend to you two."

Frank walked to the side of Henry's bed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Kid, if you think we look bad, you should see Junk Kelly and Simon Dooley. Those two peckerwoods won't be botherin' nobody any time soon..." He glanced apologetically at Kitty. "...beggin yer pardon, Miss Kitty."

She smirked, "None needed, Frank."

Henry grinned at them all. Then Kitty shooed them out of the room. "You two go clean up a little while I do this. Then I'll make you a big breakfast. I think you've earned it."

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	7. Chapter 7

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 7

"Here Comes the Judge"

"Howdy, Judge! Long time, no see!" called a voice from the boardwalk.

Judge Emmett Nation, dressed in a brightly embroidered floral waistcoat and black tailcoat that he'd been sporting on special occasions for at least twenty years, doffed his battered tophat at passersby who greeted him cheerfully in the small burg of Brushy Heap. He was sitting astride a shaggy sorrel mount who'd definitely seen better days as well, but the judge had come to love the old horse and couldn't bear to part with him for a younger one. Besides, working as a judge in the predominantly rural county of Rasco hardly afforded the old man an affluent lifestyle. That's why he was forced to supplement his income by serving as a notary public, Justice of the Peace, and supplier of fine spirits and beer in his drinking establishment, The Blossom Inn Saloon and County Courthouse. Folks could take in a dramatic trial, indulge in a libation afterward, and then spend the night if they were so blind drunk they couldn't stagger home afterwards. It all worked out very well for Emmett Nation in the long run.

Judge Nation was no stranger to the other side of the legal system himself. In his younger, wilder days, he'd gotten into a few scrapes and scuffles in Old Mexico, a couple of them unfortunately ending in a shooting death or two. But Emmett knew in his heart those evil scoundrels needed killin', so he didn't trouble his head or his heart about it too awful much. He did make sure to stay on this side of the Mexican border though, just in case someone should recall those old warrants for his arrest and decide to act upon them. Emmett Nation didn't cotton to spending his final days in jail, or even worse, on the wrong end of the hangman's noose.

A grizzled farmer, loading seed into a rickety wagon, called to him from outside McCorkle's Mercantile. "Say, Judge! What're you doin' in town? We got a trial comin' up?'

Emmett Nation pulled his horse up, spat, and scratched his chin through his bushy gray beard. "Nope. I'm here in my capacity as Justice of the Peace. Gotta perform a weddin'."

The farmer squinted up at him. "Anybody I know?"

"Young couple who works for a friend of mine, Leland Blessing."

"Oh, I know Leland. Fine man." The farmer stuck his hands in his pockets. "Never was the same after his wife passed though."

Emmett took out a handkerchief, removed his hat, and mopped his brow. "Yep, you're right. Her death hit 'im pretty hard." Nation knew more, but didn't elaborate. "Well, gotta head on out to the Sweetwater Ranch. You take care now, you hear?"

"You too, Judge."

Emmett rode away thinking about his friend Leland Blessing and his lost love Juliet. That's how he and Emmett had come to meet during the Texas Revolution. They'd both joined up to fight for Texas' independence from Mexico, but Emmett knew that Leland had another agenda. Leland didn't say so, but Emmett could tell by the flinty look in his eye, the grim set of his jaw. He'd led insane charges to fight the enemy, fought hand-to-hand combat ferociously. He acted as if he had no thought for his own welfare.

Emmett had discovered the black reason for his disregard for his own personal safety one night when both young men had gotten sloppy drunk in a little cantina that served terrible rotgut tequila and delicious enchiladas. Leland Blessing related his heartbreaking story to the future judge that fateful evening, and Emmett had understood at last what drove the young man. It seemed Leland Blessing harbored a death wish since his wife and unborn child had perished so horribly in a fire, and Leland seemed determined to join them in eternal rest. But young Leland had survived the war in spite of his best efforts.

After helping General Houston route Santa Ana in San Jacinto, the two men had stayed in touch through letters and occasional visits over the years. Since Juliet's untimely death, Leland Blessing had been a lonely man who kept to himself, so Judge Nation was surprised when he recently received a letter asking him to journey to the Sweetwater Ranch to marry up a young couple. Leland seemed quite taken with them, it seemed by the way he spoke of them, so Emmett's curiosity was piqued and he was looking forward to this wedding. Besides, he and Blessing hadn't had a chance for a drink together in a coon's age. Leland had explained it would be a very small, informal affair, as the couple didn't really know too many folks around Brushy Heap and they didn't have much money, but Leland wanted it to be a special day for them nonetheless. Nation smiled to himself, intrigued at Leland's interest, as he clucked to his old horse to pick up the pace.

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Dependable old Horatio whinnied as Judge Nation signaled for him to stop in front of the Sweetwater ranch house, a comfortable-looking home with a wide porch and heavy, square, white-washed posts and impressive windows that ran from floor to ceiling to let in the light. A young man with a slight limp hurried to take his horse's reins and the judge groaned as he dismounted, his stiff muscles and arthritic bones complaining at their maltreatment. The judge sighed. He used to be able to ride for hours alongside Emmett Blessing in Sam Houston's company of soldiers. He and Emmett would talk about their favorite books and swap lies that became more and more outrageous as they traveled. Well, those days were over. He wasn't a young man anymore and he could tell it more and more with each passing year.

The judge did still cut an imposing figure though. He was six feet tall and with the addition of a tophat, the man seemed a giant. He looked down at the boy before him. He seemed awfully young, with clear blue eyes, skin tanned and hair bleached pale from working long hours in the sun. He gave the judge a nervous smile, ducking his head.

Clamping a hand on the boy's shoulder, Nation's deep voice boomed, "Well now, young man, you wouldn't happen to be the groom, would you?"

The boy's eyes widened and his voice fairly squeaked, "M-m-me? No! N-no, sir. I mean...m-m-maybe I wisht it was m-m-me..." He frowned and then shrugged. "But she loves s-s-somebody else."

His mouth turning down in sympathy, the judge patted his shoulder. "I know how you feel, son. The pain of unrequited love is a sorrowful burden to bear, but in the end it will make you stronger."

The boy's nose wrinkled, "What kinda l-love?"

"You'll understand one of these days." And Judge Emmett Nation's thoughts were drawn as they always were in matters of love to the beautiful actress Miss Fannie Mae Blossom, the fairest girl in all the land. He'd been privileged to see her play Ophelia in Hamlet on stage in St. Louis many years gone by, and her achingly lovely portrayal of the doomed heroine had left him both devastated and completely infatuated. All women paled in comparison, which is most likely one of the reasons he'd never married himself. He'd followed her career in the theatre magazines he managed to get hold of, and when he'd finally settled in Rasco County, he'd named his establishment in her honor, the Blossom Inn Saloon. He wrote her of his tribute, but sadly enough, he'd never received a single word of acknowledgement in return. Judge Nation knew of what he spoke when he mentioned unrequited love to the young ranch hand.

Judge Nation shook his head and brought himself back to the present, asking, "What's your name, boy?"

"Henry. H-henry Small."

The judge firmly shook the boy's hand. "Nice to meet you, Henry. Now where's that old rascal Leland Blessing? He and I have some catching up to do!"

"Th-this way, s-sir. He's most likely in the k-kitchen. Gettin' 'bout s-s-suppertime. H-he likes to v-v-visit with Miss K-kitty sometimes when she cooks."

"Miss Kitty?" The judge's mouth dropped open at the familiar name, one he recognized from Leland's letter. "So she's the young lady whose heart was stolen away from you?"

Henry blushed. "Aww...I d-don't think I would quite p-put it thataway, sir."

"Don't worry, son. Your lovelorn secret is safe with me." He winked conspiratorially. "Lead me to the kitchen, Henry Small. I want to meet Kitty Russell and her young man."

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Emmett engulfed his old friend Leland in a bear hug when he entered the warm kitchen. The two elderly gentlemen roared their happy, gruff greetings, pounding each other on the back, eyes sparkling merrily. When they'd said their hellos, they finished with an undefinable look into each other's eyes, a glance that spoke of shared life experiences, memories, secrets and heartaches. The two men had a bond that ran deep.

Blessing broke the moment self-consciously, indicating the bench beside the kitchen table. "Sit down! Sit down, you old codger!"

"Not until you introduce me to this lovely young lady," Judge Nation replied formally, removing his hat.

"I'm sorry! Where on earth are my manners? Livin' out like this, I forget how civilized people act sometimes!" Leland apologized. "I'm sorry, child. I didn't forget about ya'." He cleared his throat. "Judge Emmett Nation, this here is Miss Kitty Russell, and you'll be marryin' her to her sweetheart tomorrow, God willin' and the creek don't rise!"

Emmett was at once struck by the beauty of this girl with flaming red hair, porcelain skin and bright blue eyes. But she also radiated an inner poise and charm as she quickly used a towel to wipe her hands and then stepped forward to confidently greet him. Firmly, she took his hand and smiled at him warmly. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, Judge. Mr. Blessing has told me so much about you."

Her self-assured manner belied her extremely youthful appearance, the old judge ruminated. He replied, "And not a word of it is true, I can assure you!" Both men laughed heartily at the joke, but Emmett noticed how Leland's eyes sparkled as he looked at her. The impression he'd received from the rancher's letter was true-Leland apparently thought a great deal of the girl.

Leland chuckled, "And don't you believe a dadgum word he says about me, either, child. He's the biggest liar in the west!"

Enjoying their camaraderie, Kitty laughed, not a delicate, ladylike titter, but a sound that came from clear down in her toes, thought Nation, and he knew then and there he was going to like this beautiful, earthy girl.

Rubbing a hand over his graying beard, he inquired, "Where's the lucky groom, young lady?"

She answered with a crooked smile, "He'll be here pretty soon, Judge. If there's one thing you can say about Matt, it's that he's never late for supper."

Leland reminded his friend, "You may recall from my letter that he's my new foreman."

"Yeah, that's right. You said you were finally slowin' down a little? I can't believe that, can you, Miss Russell?"

"Oh, please call me Kitty, Judge."

"It's an honor, Kitty, for a lovely girl such as you," he nodded at her. "And Leland, I can't believe you have retired."

Blessing shook his head. "Now, I haven't been put completely out to pasture, Emmett. Just leavin' some of the work to my most trusted man. Matt is..."

Kitty was stirring dumplings on the stove with her back turned, but she was listening in interest to the conversation.

Blessing continued quietly, "...he's a fine young man, Emmett. I'd trust him with my life, and that's the God's honest truth."

Nation answered with a sober, knowing look at the friend he'd experienced the horrors of war with. "That's sayin' a lot, Leland. That's sayin' a lot."

Her chest still swelling with pride at Mr. Blessing's heartfelt commendation of Matt, she heard the door open. Kitty happily exclaimed, "Matt!" And one of the tallest young cowboys Judge Nation had ever seen strode through the door, grinning back at her. Matt actually had to remove his hat and duck a little to make it through the frame.

"Kitty," Matt answered, and the quiet glance that passed between them spoke volumes. Nation stood eagerly to shake the hand of the young man that Leland Blessing trusted so much.

Blessing hurried to introduce them. "Matt Dillon, this is Judge Emmett Nation. He's the one that's gonna get you two hitched tomorrow!"

Matt's face self-consciously turned a little pink but he shook Nation's hand with a strong grip, smiling, "Judge. I've heard a lot about you..."

Nation laughingly protested, "Oh no, here we go again!" He grinned as they sat on opposite sides of the table. "I assure you none of it was my fault!"

Matt added jokingly, "Oh, I'm sure you've changed your ways since then, Judge, bein' an officer of the court and all."

The judge laughed appreciatively at the young man's dry wit.

Kitty quietly served the men their supper and prepared to leave, but Mr. Blessing insisted she join them in spite of her protests that they probably wanted to discuss old times. So she sat beside Matt and enjoyed the raucous conversation, not sure which of the stories the old men were telling were true and which were pure, unadulterated hogwash. She and Matt laughed until their stomachs hurt with tales of late night, liquored up hijinks, covert tequila runs into enemy territory, and Mexican jail breaks involving knives concealed in tamales. There were also highly ill-advised pranks, the most outrageous of which involved a full-grown horse in the upstairs hallway of an establishment Kitty fully suspected was a whorehouse although neither man would admit it in front of a lady. Kitty was amused at that ironic fact. If they only knew what her life had been like in the past...

While they were laughing, Matt slipped Kitty's hand in his beneath the table, giving it a squeeze, and Kitty smiled up at him. Tomorrow they would be married. Tomorrow they would become man and wife. It seemed unreal. It was unreal. How had all this come about? But then she remembered the hurt she had felt back in Dodge when Matt had taken off on his own after being shot, not knowing if he would ever return to her. She now looked up into the shining, gentle eyes of her young cowboy who was holding her hand, who wanted to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her. Right then Kitty Russell decided hers was not to question why, or how, and she instead reveled in being so close to him and enjoying this evening with friends, this evening before their wedding day.

Suddenly Kitty realized it was dark, and she needed to be going home. Tomorrow would be a long day and she needed to get plenty of sleep. Plus, she was sure these two old comrades would enjoy spending some time talking alone. Kitty stood and gave her apologies, clearing the dishes, and Matt wordlessly stood and brought in clean water from the well, pouring some into the pan on the stove. Then he whispered in her ear, "Come outside with me for a minute, Kitty," and his breath stirred the loose hair hanging on her neck after a long day's work, making her shiver deliciously. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and followed him. The old gents pretended not to notice the sweethearts' departure, but when they were gone, they smiled at each other knowingly.

Outside, Matt quickly pulled Kitty against him, his hand caressing the small of her back, and he kissed her urgently. Then he drew back and in a voice full of wonder, he said, "Tomorrow you'll be mine, Kitty Russell."

"And you'll be all mine, Matthew Dillon," she murmured, placing her hands on his cheeks. Then she drank deeply from his lips, gently, sweetly, until he groaned and pulled away again.

"I can't take much more waitin', honey," he drawled in frustration, rubbing his hand over his face.

Tiptoeing, she wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, and she could feel him trembling. "You won't have to wait too awful much longer," she breathed softly in his ear. "Just until tomorrow, Cowboy."

He took her hand and kissed her palm, a gesture which made her chest ache. Then he pushed his hat back on his forehead with an index finger. His voice sounded a little gruff with pent-up emotion. "I'll see ya' tomorrow then, Kitty."

As she watched him lope off toward the barn, she called out, "I love you, Cowboy."

He gave her a lingering glance over his shoulder as he walked. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

tbc

Author's Note: Judge Emmett Nation's character is loosely based on the larger-than-life historical "character" Judge Roy Bean. His unbelievable tale makes for fascinating reading.

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	8. Chapter 8

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 8

"Weddin' Day"

Shifting nervously from booted foot to booted foot down by the banks of Cottonwood Creek, Matt Dillon was gussied up in his very best jacket, a clean shirt and dapper string tie. He straightened his hat, tugged at his collar and then finally clasped his fidgety hands in front of him as he waited alongside Judge Emmett Nation and his best man Freddie Fiore. The New York City-born ranch cook turned newspaperman murmured quiet reassurances to the anxious groom as he awaited his bride in the same special spot where they'd first sat together, talked together, and even shared a breathless, sweet kiss on Kitty's very first night in Brushy Heap.

Theirs had been a whirlwind romance to Matt's way of thinking. Young Kitty Russell had appeared like a bolt of dazzling lightning out of the clear blue sky only a few months ago, but somehow, in his heart, he'd realized that the two of them belonged together from the start. He didn't have a lot to offer her except his undying love and protection, but at this point, he couldn't fathom life without her. Truthfully, he didn't know a thing about her life before she came to Brushy Heap, but he didn't care one whit. All that mattered was the here and now.

So one day, sitting on a marble bench beside Juliet Blessing's final resting place, he'd mustered his courage and asked Kitty to marry him and be his wife. Much to his surprise, she'd agreed wholeheartedly and even cried tears that she explained to him were tears of joy. Women were still a mystery to young Matt Dillon, so he'd have to take her word for it when she said that he'd made her happy and she loved him more than life itself. All he knew was that he felt like the luckiest man alive today, the day when Kitty Russell would become his lawful wife.

Only a small gathering of folks were present, talking companionably in small groups as they waited with the anxious groom—good friends Frank McWharter, Cletus Hoke, Lionel Byrd and their sweethearts, the Holcomb sisters from the Coyote Gulch Ranch: Elizabeth, Isabelle, and Olivia, pleasingly plump, raven-haired beauties better known as Bitsy, Izzy, and Livvy, along with their parents. For shy Henry Small's benefit, Kitty had invited the sweet, freckle-faced girl she'd introduced to him at Freddie and Celia's wedding. Her name was Ivy Grace, and she'd come with her ma and pa, Mr. and Mrs. Tate, who were homesteaders on the other side of Beaver Township. Sly old Mozelle was there, too, with his toothless grin and bright yellow galluses.

Of course Celia's undertaker father, Grover Lamb, was present along with his housekeeper, who'd risen extra early that morning and traveled to the Sweetwater Ranch to help Kitty with her hair. The old woman had spoken earnestly with the motherless girl about things she had also been forced to explain to Celia before her marriage. Mrs. Rubottom hadn't noticed Kitty turn her head and smother her amused smile or Celia roll her eyes behind her back as the gray-haired woman explained in hushed tones the delicate subject of the "birds and bees."

But then Celia had gone and muttered under her breath in Kitty's ear, "Birds and bees, my eye" and the two had lost their composure and snorted in a very unladylike fashion. Mrs. Rubottom gave them a scolding look and pinched her lips together primly. They hushed after that and listened dutifully to her somewhat inadequate metaphor of nature's winged creatures compared to the wifely duty of matrimony, although Kitty and Celia refused to look at one another during the remainder of the lesson for fear of bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

Now the time had come at last, and Kitty, belly full of fluttering butterflies, rode in a buggy to Cottonwood Creek to meet up with her handsome groom. She and Celia sat in the back seat while Mr. Blessing held the reins up front. He gave an occasional backwards glance at the two lovely young girls, their rosewater-scented skirts overflowing the conveyance and occasional whispers and nervous giggles drifting forward to tickle his ears, and he was overcome by how much his life had changed since Kitty Russell had arrived at his ranch. His hours of loneliness, isolation, and downright contrariness were no more. And the day she had asked him to give her away at her wedding ceremony, Blessing's rheumy eyes had filled with tears because he knew in his heart she was the daughter he would never be able to have. Afraid his voice would fail him, he'd murmured, "It would indeed be an honor, child." Her beatific smile was all the thanks he would ever require.

The day had happily turned out warm with a cloudless, azure blue sky that took a body's breath away. Insects buzzed late that afternoon as they made the short journey across the flower studded-prairie. Celia, pushing her spectacles up on her nose with an index finger, squeezed Kitty's hand and whispered mischievously in her ear about her wifely duties. Kitty pretended to be scandalized, but then gave a saucy smile and enigmatic brow lift at her companion who dissolved in laughter.

When the buggy finally pulled up near the small gathering of folks down by the water, everyone turned as Mr. Blessing helped the girls down. Dark-haired Celia fussed with Kitty's skirts and veil, arranging them just right. Eyes twinkling, Mr. Blessing commented under his voice, "You two sweet gals are purtier than a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day."

Beaming, they chorused, "Thank you, sir."

And he held out his arm to Kitty and winked. "We got a weddin' to attend."

Henry Small was the only musician during the ceremony, as Kitty had insisted. On his little silver harmonica, he began playing a sweet, haunting rendition of "Red River Valley" as Mr. Blessing escorted Kitty to join her groom with Celia close behind.

Matt's eyes widened and he had to swallow hard as he beheld the beauty he was marrying-he'd never seen her look so stunning. For the first time she had donned the beautiful yellow silk dress with fashionably wide hoop skirts and wide set shoulders that Mr. Blessing had given her for a wedding gift. Courtesy of the considerable talents of Mrs. Rubottom, her gleaming red hair was parted in the middle and elaborately plaited, with tiny prairie daisies and miniature white rosebuds woven into the braids that wound round her head like a crown. A delicate, waist-length lace veil trailing down her back had been worn by Juliet Moon when she'd married Leland Blessing many years ago. Tied around her slim throat she wore the blue satin ribbon Henry Small had given her that fateful day he'd nearly lost his life defending her. And on her feet she wore a gift given her by Matt, black kid leather slippers that were not the least bit sensible for life out here on the prairie. But they were cunningly beaded and soft as butter, and Matt had bought them as a wedding present. He wanted her to have at least one pretty pair of shoes to her name, especially now that her name would be Dillon.

The judge, wearing his shabby tailcoat and impressively embroidered waistcoat that'd seen more weddings than the old man would care to admit, cleared his throat and removed his battered top hat as the three new arrivals joined him beneath the sheltering cottonwoods, willows and catalpa trees while large white blossoms with dark crimson centers drifted down to float on the water's surface. All the gentlemen in the assemblage followed the judge's suit, removing their hats as well, while Matt and Kitty stole a silent look at each other, their hearts pounding in their chests.

Judge Emmett Nation smiled at the five nervous souls standing before him, then began in a clear, resounding voice with arms outstretched, "Dear friends, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses to join Kathleen Russell and Matthew Dillon in matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly. Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

The judge stopped for a moment, and no one, not even young Henry Small, who was giving reproachful looks to his quietly teasing friends, made a sound at that pregnant pause. The only answer was the lilting song of the birds in the trees overhead and the rushing of water past stones in the creek, giving their hushed blessing to this momentous reunion-so newly decided, yet so long in coming.

Judge Nation continued with a question. "Who gives this woman to be wedded to this man?"

"I do," responded Leland Blessing in a voice gruff with emotion. He held Kitty's hand and leaned to whisper in her ear, "You hang on to your young man, you hear? Love 'im, and don't ever let go." She nodded wordlessly, afraid to speak for fear her tears would flow. Then Mr. Blessing quickly kissed her cheek and shook hands firmly with Matt.

Freddie took Matt's hat so that he could step forward and take Kitty's hand in his own. She looked up into her Cowboy's eyes, those eyes she'd known for nearly twenty years, although he believed they'd only been together a short time, and she suddenly felt positively weak in the knees at the thought that she would finally marry him. They had a second chance at life. At a different life.

The rest of Judge Nation's words were a muddle to her as her mind whirled. She thought of all the hard times they'd had in their old lives—bullet wounds, kidnappings, near fatal accident accidents, threats of every imaginable kind due to Matt's attachment to that damn badge, and a good many arguments between them to boot. But here they could start over and love each other and not worry about the outside world and what would happen to her if the spoilers knew she was his girl. Damn them all. She was going to marry Matt Dillon and to hell with the consequences.

A few soft curls falling onto his forehead, Matt smiled down at her, squeezing her hand and bringing her back to the present. The judge was going full steam, saying that even though the lovely couple hadn't known each other for too awful long, the great Shakespeare himself had said it best: "Whoever loved that loved not at first sight?" The judge, who was a bit of a dramatic orator, was enjoying himself enormously and he smiled broadly at all the agreeably nodding heads amongst the people gathered there.

Then he gave a piercing look at Matt and queried, "Son, are you ready to take your vows?"

Matt gave a firm nod and answered, "Yessir!" He turned to Freddie who dug deep in his coat pocket searching for a very small, very slim, plain band of gold. The purchase had cost Matt several months' wages, but the earnest young man had been determined to do right by Kitty. He took the tiny thing in his clumsy, large fingers and turned to the beautiful girl waiting breathlessly by his side.

"Repeat after me, young man," the judge intoned. "But look at her, now! Don't look at me. She's the one you're makin' a solemn promise to, you hear?"

Matt grinned, "Yessir, Judge!" and turned to face Kitty. Instantly his face softened. She tilted her head back to look at him, and welled-up tears slipped hotly from the corners of her eyes, past her temples and into her hairline.

Sliding his precious gold ring onto her trembling finger, Matt's own hands were trembling as well. Kitty could hear only Matt's deep, gentle voice as he spoke these words to her, "With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow." They were now one.

Judge Nation's voice boomed, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife!" He chortled and looked at Matt, who seemed happily dumbfounded. "Well, go on! You may kiss your bride, son!"

And he kissed her. Matt Dillon kissed Kitty in front of everyone gathered there that day. He didn't care who was watching, and her whole head was spinning at the very notion of his public display.

The judge intervened after an appropriate interval. "Whoa there, cowboy! Save some for the weddin' night, alright?" and everyone heartily laughed.

Matt and Kitty broke their kiss, but Kitty couldn't help but give him another quick buss on the cheek which was flushed good and red by then.

Judge Nation turned them to face their friends, and hands grasping their shoulders, he announced, "I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Matt Dillon!"

A cheer went up by the creek bank that day, and Matt and Kitty were surrounded at once by all their friends and neighbors, wishing them health and happiness in their joyous new life together.

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"Swing yer partner, do-si-do!" Mr. Tate was enthusiastically calling a brisk square dance while his wife Emmaline sawed a mean fiddle, just the thing to make a wedding celebration a rousing success, in Mozelle's eye. The crusty, stooped old man was busy dipping "punch" into the dainty crystal cups he'd purchased many years ago and carried with him from wedding to wedding, always packed carefully in excelsior. "Presentation is ever'thing," Mozelle told folks when he handed them a drink that was strong enough to grow hair on their chests. Course, he always made two batches, one for the stout of heart and one for ever'body else. What tickled him about Miss Kitty—Miz Dillon, he mentally corrected himself—was that she always went for the recipe with gusto. That Kitty, she was a pistol.

Thumbs in his bright yellow galluses, Mozelle merrily tapped his toe and watched as Kitty danced away the evening with her brand-spankin' new husband—Matthew Dillon. He'd fallen for that li'l gal hook, line and sinker faster'n the blink of an eye. That young man never had a chance from the moment he set eyes on her-Mozelle could tell by the way that he looked at her, and what wasn't to like—whoowee! She was a looker, that one! And she could hold her own in a contest of wits with the men, too. That Matt had his hands full, yesiree, and what Mozelle wouldn't do to trade places with him!

He took another sip of punch and laughed as Matt did a little tripping over his own big feet. He and Kitty laughed, too, along with those rowdy Sweetwater ranch hands, all cuttin' a rug with their girls. The new newspaper man in town, Frankie Fiore, was dancing with his wife Celia, too. Even that youngster Henry was whirlin' around a sweet gal, that freckle-faced daughter of Mr. and Miz Tate.

Earlier, right after the ceremony, ever'one jumped in their wagons and hightailed it back to the Sweetwater Ranch where tables were set up in the backyard amongst the flowers that the late Mrs. Blessing had planted many a year ago. There was a right hearty supper, compliments of the Holcombs of Coyote Gulch Ranch—those three sisters sure could cook, and the wedding cake was purely a sight to behold! Whoever married those girls one of these days would surely be a man with a content belly.

Frank and the boys had hammered together a wooden dance floor the week before, so after ever'one ate their fill, Emmaline Tate struck up her fiddle and folks commenced to dancin'. Now things was slowin' down and Kitty was even gettin' Mr. Blessin' to dance with her. Mozelle couldn't believe that, no sir. But she did! He didn't ever think he'd see Leland Blessing dance again since...well, since his missus passed away years ago. Funny thing was, ol' Leland was a purty good dancer!

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"Don't drink too much," Kitty instructed in a low voice, eyes upturned coyly, as she and Matt danced a slow waltz.

"Whatta you mean, Mrs. Dillon?" He gave her a slow, lazy smile that made her warm all over.

"I mean, Mr. Dillon, that I don't want you falling asleep on me as soon as we get home, sir." Her brows rose meaningfully.

"Oh!" He took a look around, as if someone could have heard her over the fiddle playing. It seemed his friends had imbibed enough for all of them. They were no longer capable of dancing, so they just sat with their girls under the watchful eyes of Mr. Holcomb and Mr. Tate. "I promise, honey, nothin' could make me fall asleep when we get home, short o' you knockin' me over the head with an iron skillet."

"And I have no intentions of doing that, I assure you. So..." She smiled playfully. "...when can we leave?"

"Uh..." It was his turn for raised eyebrows. "I...I'm ready when you are, sweetheart." He gave an endearing lop-sided grin.

"Well, in that case, let me go tell Mr. Blessing we're headed home, alright?"

They left the floor, but Mrs. Tate continued playing her beautiful waltz while Henry joined in with his harmonica. Matt watched as Kitty spoke quietly into Mr. Blessing's ear. He stood and hugged her close, then walked to where Matt stood. Gripping Matt's hand warmly, he murmured in his ear, "You take good care of our girl now, you hear?" Matt could see tears in the old man's eyes.

Matt's answer was firm. "Yessir. I promise."

With a sigh, the rancher announced to everyone that the couple was leaving. The inebriated young ranch hands began catcalling, hooting and hollering, and Matt's face instantly flushed red. Kitty took his arm and grinned. "Don't mind them, Cowboy." Then she whispered in his ear, "They don't know what they're missin'..."

tbc

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	9. Chapter 9

Growing Old With Kitty 2

by Lilyjack

Chapter 9

"Bonfire Hearts"

"Get back in this wagon, you knuckleheads!" Freddie Fiore demanded. "You can't go in the house with 'em!"

"Why in tarnation not?" Cletus asked with a glazed look in his eye, courtesy of Mozelle's strong recipe.

Matt helped Kitty down out of the back of the old farm conveyance, being careful not to snag her yellow skirts. Celia, who sat on the wagon bench beside her husband, just rolled her gray-green eyes at Kitty and poked her spectacles back up on her nose.

Lionel staggered over and put an arm around his wavering friend, directing him back to the wagon which had been Kitty and Matt's "chariot" they'd ridden to the cabin. Unbeknownst to them, their friends had festooned an old farm wagon with flowers and streamers, placing plenty of straw in the back and covering it with a quilt so Kitty's beautiful silk gown would not be damaged. Everyone who could crowd on did so, and Henry played his harmonica the entire journey while the whole group sang along.

Now poor Freddie was trying to get his friends back in the wagon so that Matt and Kitty could carry on with their own private wedding celebration. The couple's arms were draped loosely around each other's waists as they stood watching in amusement, but Freddie knew from personal experience what they'd rather be doing.

Swarthy, mustachioed Frank McWharter swiped a hand over his inebriated features. Looking down at the newly married couple from his unsteady perch on the side of the wagon, his face suddenly crumpled. "I...I shore do love you both...you know that?"

At the front of the wagon, Freddie Fiore smacked his palm on his forehead and groaned under his breath. Celia just patted her husband's back.

Matt answered with a chuckle, "I'm not movin' to Californy, Frank."

The ranch hand answered with a sad nod, "I know, I know. I'm just so tickled for ya' both. It couldn't a happened to better folks."

Out of the blue, Lionel hollered, "Just one m..." Belching, he politely excused himself and continued without a hitch. "...one more song, ever'body! Let's see Matt and Kitty off wi'f a song."

Cletus' eyes sparkled in his freckled face as he gleefully offered, "_Lilly Dale_! That's m' favorite. Henry, kin you play it?"

Kitty was surprised when Henry answered with a confident tone she'd never before heard out of him, "Course I c-can!"

So Henry played beautifully, and everyone who knew the words joined in while Matt and Kitty held hands and walked to the front door of their new home together, glancing with dancing eyes over their shoulders at their serenaders whose individual vocal talents varied considerably. They turned at the door to wave happily at all these people who'd become such an integral part of their lives so recently. Matt leaned across her to open the door, and Kitty gasped aloud when Matt swept her off her feet and into his strong arms. He leaned over and kissed her soundly on the lips while their friends in the wagon cheered and whistled. Then Matt carried Kitty Dillon over the threshold into their cozy little cabin.

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The room was dim save for the silvery moonlight that spilled through the curtains, and the air smelled sweetly of the roses blooming outside the open cabin window. Kitty nestled her face against Matt's neck and deeply inhaled while he kicked the door closed. Stars above, it felt wonderful to be this close to him once more. His hand was warm on her back and his embrace felt so strong and secure as he held her against his chest. She couldn't recall the last time she'd felt this good—she figured she was just about the happiest woman in the whole wide world right about then. All of her worries back in Dodge City with Matt gone maybe forever were melting away with this new reality before her. This flesh and blood Matt who was sure he loved her and wanted to live with her forever. This young Matt who had no badge to hold him back. This earnest cowboy who had married her and was about to take her to his bed.

In the dim light, she felt his breath on her face and realized he was about to kiss her. His lips barely grazed hers, sending a thrill down her spine, as he declared, "You're so pretty, Kitty Russell."

She breathed, "I'm not Kitty Russell anymore, you know."

"I think I'll get used to that real quick. I'm mighty proud to be your husband, Mrs. Dillon."

And Kitty's young husband kissed her once again while they listened to the merry sounds of the wagon and its singing occupants drifting away into the distance. Then Matt carried her over and set her gently on the edge of the bed so that he could strike a match and light a lamp. In the soft glow, he sat expectantly beside her, removing his hat and placing it on the bedpost. She could tell he had something up his sleeve. His eyes shone as he reached underneath the bed and pulled out a package tied with string. "I got you a present."

She protested, "Oh, Matt, you've given me so many presents already! The shoes and the ring and now... You shouldn't have!"

Tentatively, he offered it to her, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Oh, this present is probably just as much for me as it is for you, honey."

Kitty smiled knowingly. Her Matt always had a weakness for seeing her in pretty things. Pretty things she couldn't wear out in public. Her eyes sparkled as she untied the string and unfolded the brown paper package. "Oh... Matt, it's lovely..." She carefully held aloft a nightgown of gossamer white, a frilly, soft confection that looked as though it had been spun by fairies from spider silk. "Where did you ever...?"

"I...uh...I got a little help from Mrs. Leggett at her store in Beaver Township. Celia told me where to go."

"You did a fine job, Cowboy." She kissed him soundly on the cheek. "It's just beautiful." She started to remark, "All my pretty nightgowns are back in Dodge..." but caught herself in time. Instead, she tilted her eyes up to meet his and coyly asked, "Would you like to see me in it?"

"Yes..." Her young husband's ears turned pink and the distinctive shade began traveling to his cheeks. He stood, kissed her forehead and began walking backwards. "I'll just, uh...go outside while you get changed."

"But..." She called to him, sitting in a cloud of silky yellow skirts and ruffled petticoats.

A sudden urge hit him as he took two hurried steps back toward the bed and sealed her lips with another firm kiss. Then he loped to the door. "I'll be waitin' outside..."

"Matt!"

Eyes wide, he turned to listen. "What?"

"I need your help," she explained. "You've got to unbutton me."

"Oh!" The pink shade had travelled down to his neck. "Sure, honey..."

She turned her back to him and he took a deep breath before he began fumbling with the delicate buttons of her dress. Kitty's mind wandered to all the times in Dodge that her Matt had helped her into and out of clothes. And all the times they'd become completely distracted and ended up making love in her big brass bed instead.

"This is harder than it looks," he remarked, his voice full of determination.

"You're doin' fine, Cowboy," she encouraged, peeping over her shoulder at him. She knew how her older Matt's big fingers had eventually become quite adept with dainty little buttons and laces.

Suddenly she felt Matt's lips on her exposed back, where her slim neck sloped gracefully down to her shoulder. She gasped when his tongue touched her skin, as if to taste her. She moaned deep in her throat, and Matt suckled at her tender flesh, tiny kisses fluttering over her shoulder. "Matt..." she turned her head, and her eyes wordlessly spoke to him of her need for his touch. It had been so long since she'd made love to her cowboy.

He kissed her cheek and hoarsely said, "Call me when you're ready, sweetheart..."

The door closed with a bang, and Kitty hurried to undress.

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_Leave the light on. I want to see you_, he tells me in a voice rough with desire. His young blue eyes rake over me in that old familiar way, drinking me in while I wear his wedding present to me, a sheer gown of virginal white that hides nothing from his gaze. Matt Dillon has bedded me hundreds of times before, but never like this, never as his wife. It is the night for which I have waited an eternity, through good times and bad, through arguments, tears and laughter, through tough, frightening times when all we could do was hold each other close and hope for the best. But now, we are one, with no marshal's badge or duties to get in our way. Matt Dillon is mine.

And I am his. He takes me in his arms and kisses me like I have never been kissed before. His hands wind in my unbound hair and his lips drink from mine like I am a vessel of fine wine and he is a man dying of thirst. Then he picks me up and lays me back on the bed, watching me, watching me while he hurriedly undresses. His eyes never leave me while boots, coat, tie, shirt, pants are abandoned on the wooden floor.

Then he stands before me bare, his beautiful young body unmarked by years of abuse from malicious men who would cut him, beat him, shoot him full of bullets, scarring him for life, not only his skin, but his soul as well. All this to save others, to keep the people of Dodge out of harm's way. With all my heart, I want to spare this Matt from that fate.

I reach out my hand, breathing, _Come to me._

He sits beside me on the bed, brushing my hair from my forehead, and his fingers trace over me, my face, my neck, my breasts and belly, through the gossamer fabric. I feel like a sculpture and Matt is molding me with his warm hands.

I am trembling and can wait no longer. I pull the lovely gown over my head with his help and then his mouth covers me with kisses, tracing the path his hands had taken earlier, building a raging fire in my belly. I think he will consume me.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him hungrily to me. I kiss him with every ounce of my being and whisper to him. He enters me so slowly, so gently... and I am surprised by a stinging sensation. I feel a tearing and I gasp.

_I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?_ he asks as he caresses my face. _I'm really sorry, honey_, he says again, pressing gentle kisses on my forehead, my cheeks, as tears leak out of the corners of my eyes and drip down to the cotton pillowcase.

_I'm not hurt, honest_, I murmur as I wipe away the tears. I think they're tears of happiness more than anything. I explain to him, _it's natural, for the...first time_. I've suddenly realized my body is young in more ways than one. Matt Dillon is my first love. And he will be my last...

end

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